


The Emperor's Scars

by iceybitch



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Impregnation, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 04:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21155267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceybitch/pseuds/iceybitch
Summary: The war is over now, but the Emperor's Scars will still remain. As a reminder, as a token of past shame and anguish, or a symbol of her triumph over both? That is the question that she's asked night after night, unsure of if she should reveal them to even her own husband.





	The Emperor's Scars

Scars. Scars mat the Emperor's body. Scars too deep to be from battle, too old as well. Standing before her mirror, Emperor Edelgard, now twenty-five, traces every scar across her nude body, wincing at all of the memories flooding in about how each and everyone of them were formed.

It is the thirtieth day of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1888, over twelve years since...Since the experiments. Fòdlan is at peace, the system of nobility is starting to be chipped away at, and Those Who Slither In The Dark are close to being eliminated for good. By all means, a smile should adorn the Emperor's face, but instead apprehension does. Edelgard looks down at the ring on her finger, studded with diamonds circling a large ruby stone. A small smile creeps in, before being replaced by distress once more upon seeing the scar on that finger. It had been twelve years since the experiments that had taken the lives of her ten siblings and changed the pigment of her hair from brown to white.

It had been twelve years since she was scarred from head to toe, leaving her with shame, guilt, and worst of all, the fear of the disgust her spouse would show if she ever bared those scars to them.

But it had been six months since she had been wed. Six months since her Prime Minister, Duke Ferdinand von Aegir, had become her husband. And six months since they began consummating their marriage with Edelgard fully clothed, while Ferdinand completely nude.

Ferdinand von Aegir. The man who long ago viewed her as a rival, persistently attempting to prove his superiority to her. The man who never felt afraid to challenge and debate her as her Prime Minister, yet also respected her greatly. The man that she had proposed to nearly one year ago, the day that Thales was finally eliminated. And now, the first and likely only person who she was willing to take such a risk for and allow to see her scars, both physical and mental. It also is his twenty-sixth birthday, after all.

Edelgard turns back to their bed, the bed that half of the time she occupies alone when he needs to go back to his family's territory to help rebuild and reform it. The ruby red comforter is meticulously straight, as are the pillows, which were fitted with a matching pillowcase. Nothing that Ferdinand would divert his attention to fixing, once he returned, that is. Her crown, alongside a bottle of his favorite wine, is in the nightstand adjacent to the bed, on the right side. The side where the Prime Minister prefers to sleep. Everything is set, and all that's left is for Edelgard to simply stand at the door and wait for her husband, all political endeavors that await the following day be damned.

And right on cue, the Emperor heard footsteps at the door mere minutes after, followed by a warm, "I have returned, dearest Edelgard!" The white-haired Emperor takes a deep breath, before gingerly opening the door to her husband, tilting her chin upwards to see the ginger's reaction, before clearing her throat and uttering a stern, yet warm, "Happy Birthday, Ferdinand," watching as the man's smile turns to shock.

Edelgard does everything in her power to refrain from wincing, not wanting to show her husband her fear, before watching him lick his lips for a brief moment. "I apologize, it's rude to stare at a lady, but you…" Ferdinand mumbles, tracing a gloved finger upon a scar at her hip, "You are even more the rose of war than I thought. No, you are the proud eagle, one who soared over all of her pain and suffering. You... You're beautiful, Edelgard."

Edelgard's eyes pop open at his words, before sighing in relief, "I was worried that you might have been repulsed, my dear. These scars...When they were fresh, I don't think that anyone would call them beautiful."

"Edelgard…" the ginger slowly lifts up his wife, setting her onto their bed not unlike the night they married, "I know others, including my father, did abhorrent things to you, but this does not mean you are any less of an Imperial beauty," he says, before kissing the web of scars at her chest.

Edelgard moans at the kiss, pulling her husband closer to her body, running her fingers through his long mane, allowing her guard to drop for the first time in years.Tears of relief stream down her cheeks, murmuring a soft, "Thank you," before she feels Ferdinand get up and swiftly strip down to a similar state as his wife, his Emperor, tracing his finger on yet another scar on her stomach.

"Edelgard, do you remember the last part of the story of the Prime Minister and the Emperor?" The now 26 year old man asks, brushing his hair behind his ear as he moves his face into his wife's inner thighs, pressing numerous hickies onto the scarred flesh, placing his hands on her rear.

"On the night that they married, he kissed all of her battle scars, before they consummated their marriage and supposedly conceived their first child," Edelgard recalls, stifling a moan in the process, before chuckling, "I should have known you would have brought up this story once more."

"What other story would I bring up, Your Majesty?" Ferdinand jokes, before gliding his tongue to Edelgard's entrance, swirling it around before lapping at her juices like a starved man, moaning into her core while she grips their sheets, "Is this what ambrosia tastes like?" the ginger asks, tightening his grip on her rear, causing the Emperor to finally let out a loud moan, begging for more.

"Ferdinand, your Emperor needs you," Edelgard pleads, pulling at her husband's long, beautiful orange locks, causing Adrestia's Prime Minister to bite his lip in response to the slight pain. 

Her Majesty soon feels him get up once more, propping her legs on his shoulders, his member mere centimeters from her entrance, whispering, "In honor of our ancestors," before plunging himself inside of her. Edelgard's arms snake around Ferdinand's back while he gently thrusts in and out of her, not wanting to harm his wife.

"You've certainly become more confident," Edelgard smirks, inching her hand lower, right on her husband's rear, causing the Prime Minister to gasp at the contact, his lips curling into a cocky smirk soon after, picking up his speed as if this was another competition. 

Only ten minutes go by until both of them are nearing their climaxes, and both of them know that neither can last much longer, so the remnants of the competitive Ferdinand places both of his hands on his Emperor's breasts. Squeezing the two mounds and toying with them while only slightly slowing down, Ferdinand hears Edelgard's moans grow louder and louder, nearing an orgasm. What he didn't account for, however, was Edelgard tightly squeezing his own rear like her life depended on it, which soon tips Ferdinand himself over the edge, spilling his seed inside her in the form of liquid ropes the same color as her hair.

Luckily for the defeated Ferdinand, his orgasm spurs that of his wife's, and the two of them soon collapse exhausted on top of the ruined red comforter of their bed, stained with his semen and saliva as well as her slick. Ferdinand looks down at the sight, taking in the image of his lady love, his imperial beauty in her most vulnerable state, with no mask to cover herself. No facade to put up for the sake of others, and nothing to hide her from him. Truly, this is the gift that Ferdinand von Aegir wanted his whole life ever since they met, and now, it's his.

* * *

Scars. Scars mat the Emperor's body, but now various hickies accompany them, no doubt because of her Prime Minister. Her body is less muscled now, and a large bump appears on her midriff where well defined abs used to be. She's now more comfortable showing off her body when it's just the two of them, if the fact that she's sitting on top of his groin while he lays on their bed is any indication. The ginger raises his hand to touch his white-haired bride's breast, noting its increased size since six months ago, the night they conceived their first child. The room is silent as a drop of milk spills from Edelgard's bosom, realization hitting her once more.

They're still married, he never was appalled or disgusted by her scars, the opposite in fact. And now, thanks to his love, she's pregnant. Pregnant with their first child, a daughter, she hopes, and now thanks to them, their child can follow their own path. It won't matter if their child bears a Crest or not. It won't matter if their child is fit to be a leader or not. This was the future that she was willing to create, and willing to die for, and now it's hers.

Tears, happy tears stream down the Adrestian Emperor's face as her husband's hand wanders to her stomach, feeling every inch of her growing bump. She gingerly runs her fingers through his hair in response, curving her lips into a small smile.

It is the third day of the Red Wolf Moon, Imperial Year 1888, and Edelgard looks down at the ring on her finger, studded with diamonds circling a large ruby stone. It had been almost thirteen years since the experiments, but one year since she was wed. By all means, a smile should adorn her face, and when thinking about their lives to come, it does.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit hard to get both of their characters down since I wanted it to be smutty, but at the same time fluffy and comforting while fitting into both of their characters? As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.


End file.
